


Methos Walks Into a Bar

by MERains



Series: Friends or Enemies [2]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen, sequel to An Immortal Walks Into a Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MERains/pseuds/MERains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos extends the hand of friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Methos Walks Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I am just playing.

“An Immortal walks into a bar, what does he say?” Methos asks Joe as he walks into his bar for the second time before the bar has opened; two months after his previous invasion.  
  
“I don’t know what the Immortal says when he walks into the closed bar. I can tell you what the bartender says is we’re closed. Come back after we’re open for business.”  
  
“Joe at our last meeting we extended hands of friendship. I am here not as a customer but as a friend. Now I must insist that you respond to my query.” Methos sits down at the bar in front of Joe in spite of Joe’s insistence he leave.  
  
“You must remember our last meeting differently than I do.” Joe keeps his distance behind the bar, his hand on the gun he slipped into his pocket the moment he saw Methos and decides to play along. He has no idea what else to do with a five thousand year old Immortal. “So tell me what an Immortal says when he walks into a bar?”  
  
“Can I get a beer?” Methos asks Joe.  
  
Joe sighs, pours Methos a beer, and hands it to him. “Are you going to tell me what the Immortal says?”  
  
Methos tilts his head, takes a drink of his beer, and tells Joe “I just did. When an Immortal walks into a bar he asks for a beer, the same as a Mortal would. You and I are not that different Joe. You carry a gun in your pocket for protection while I carry a sword in my coat. Do you think you will ever stop picking up a gun every time you see me?”  
  
Joe sits back on his stool behind the bar and gives Methos a considering look. “I don’t know what it takes to survive five thousand years and I never will. I imagine a man would have to be careful, clever, manipulative, intelligent, and willing to do whatever it takes to survive. Such a man would be a very dangerous man regardless of how youthful and friendly he appears.”  
  
“You are correct Joe; a man would have to be all of those things to survive five thousand years. Longevity has many requirements; those for survival of the body, mind, and spirit. Human companionship, conversation, and friendship are requirements to maintaining one’s sanity. Throughout the years I have those things as one personality or another but every now and then I need to let people know who I really am or I won’t survive. It is one of the many truths I have learned throughout this long life I have lived. If I had not wanted MacLeod to know who I am I would have disappeared the moment you called me. It would have been easy to grab my chronicles and set fire to the building so no one would know I left voluntarily. Everything would have been blamed on Kalas. It would have been perfect.”  
  
“I understand that Methos but the important point in the pile of word vomit you just spewed at me is that you wanted MacLeod to know, not me.” Joe shrugs his shoulders at Methos, “Maybe you want a mortal to know who you are? I don’t know; I do think you would want to decide for yourself who you would tell. I can’t imagine you’re too happy with Mac for taking that choice away from you.” Joe barks out a laugh and tells Methos, “I know if it was me I would be telling a beautiful woman, not a grizzly, middle-aged man.”  
  
Methos laughs with Joe, smiling at him as he says “You are correct in thinking I would not have chosen to tell you. Your knowledge of my identity is dangerous to me. Now if you would be willing to provide me with another beer seeing as how I have finished mine and am feeling quite parched I could finish spewing my word vomit. You know for a grizzly, middle-aged man you don’t know much about the hand of friendship.” Methos raises his eyebrow and chides Joe.  
  
“I know enough to watch who I extend my hand out to in case they decide to chop it off.” Joe tells Methos as he slides another beer across the bar to him. “This time you’re paying for the beers.”  
  
After taking a moment to enjoy his beer while enjoying Joe’s impatient tapping of his cane while he waits for Methos to continue, he begins his story where he left off. “Having met you as Methos I am glad MacLeod told you. You are an interesting man Joe Dawson. I don’t think you realize how rare that is to a man who has lived for five thousand years. The call of a beautiful woman will thrall me as long as I live but I won’t share with them my true identity. That is reserved only for interesting people regardless of their looks or gender. If you had only known me as Adam Pierson I would never have seen this side of you. You were kind, paternal, and bland to Adam Pierson. I would never have guessed you are so much more than that. I have decided I want you to be my friend. Now you have to decide if you want me as your friend. You should know that being my friend is dangerous, which is something you should consider before making your decision.”  
  
Joe looks at Methos speechless at what he has just heard. A part of him is squealing in happiness, the fan boy of Immortals and history overjoyed because Methos finds him interesting. The idea that someone who has lived for five thousand years finds him interesting is a huge stroke to his ego. His cynical side says yeah right, what do you want Methos? The thing is whatever the reasons behind Methos’s hand of friendship might be worth it. Living and breathing history sitting right in front of him; such a vast wealth of knowledge in the form of a man that has spent his entire existence lying about everything. Decisions, decisions, decisions…  
  
Methos finishes his beer and tells Joe “Think about whether or not you want to be friends. Put the beer on my tab, I will be back for your answer. When you have decided we should be friends we’ll have to play together.” Methos nods his head towards the stage, “After all I did play with Muddy Waters in the 1940’s before he recorded his first album.” With a wink and a smile at Joe, Methos leaves the bar before it opens for the day.  
  
Joe chuckles at Methos assumption that he will say yes to the offer of friendship. Joe decides he will make his decision after they play together. The Blues will bring them together or tear them apart and that’s the way it should be.


End file.
